


By The Light Of The Fireworks

by starvonnie



Series: Megarod Week [5]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fireworks, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27044626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starvonnie/pseuds/starvonnie
Summary: Megatron has been executed, and Cybertron is celebrating.  All except for Rodimus.Prompt: celebration
Relationships: Megatron/Rodimus | Rodimus Prime
Series: Megarod Week [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1968379
Comments: 8
Kudos: 35
Collections: Megarod Week





	By The Light Of The Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> Did y'all really think you'd get through megarod week without me making something angsty?

He should be celebrating. All of Cybertron was celebrating. And there were places he'd be... well, perhaps not _welcomed_ , but at the very least he would be understood.

No. No one would understand. Of all the millions of Cybertronians cheering for the end of an era, he was alone. Mourning what was the beginning of his own era. _Their_ era. Ending before it could even begin.

Rodimus hugged his knees to his chest. His room was dark, but every so often a firework would light up his frame in shimmering colour. If he weren't so tired, and if he felt like he deserved the comfort the darkness brought, he would have drawn the blinds. But he needed the reminder that he should be happy. That this was a good thing. That, less than a decade ago, he would have been out there celebrating with the masses.

What had changed was a matter of spark.

And that spark felt tight. Confined. And yet, incomplete. Empty. The initial pain had long since faded, but Rodimus found the ache worse. Because it lingered.

_"Do not grieve for me, Rodimus," Megatron whispered. He'd been whispering all day since Rodimus had been holding him close since they'd awoken. "You have so much more life to live."_

_"How am I not supposed to grieve?" Rodimus said through tears. He was amazed he still had any left to shed._

_Megatron gave no response. He just hugged him tighter._

_“Let’s just leave,” Rodimus said. “We’ll steal a ship and—”_

_“No.” Megatron cupped his wet cheek. “Rodimus… my love… I can’t just let you become an accomplice. If we’re caught—”_

_“At least we’d get to be together, still.”_

_“I doubt you’d be executed. They’d likely just lock you up. And I can’t have you spending the rest of your life behind bars just for more time with me. I’m sorry, Rodimus. I’m so sorry. But we knew this was coming.”_

_Rodimus sobbed._

_Megatron did his best to curl around his Prime, though not his for much longer. Everything was slipping through his fingers. His spark still beat, but it felt the touch of death. Counting down the beats. The bite Rodimus’ love had given him was losing its hold._

_“I do need to ask a selfish request of you.”_

_“Anything.”_

_Megatron touched his helm to Rodimus’. "Will you remember me, Rodimus? The way I am now?"_

_Rodimus nodded fervently. "I don't have a choice."_

_“I almost wish you would.”_

_Rodimus shook his helm. “You freed Cybertron.”_

_Megatron sighed. “Sometimes I wish you had been there, fighting at my side. You wouldn’t have let me tread down this path. You would have knocked some sense into me, or at the very least left and made me realize how far I had strayed from my ideals.”_

_Rodimus kissed him, tasting his own tears on his lips. He pressed himself as close as he could without merging. And his spark yearned for it. He wanted to know Megatron._ Know him _. He’d always wanted to. He’d begged and pleaded and reasoned with him, but every time he shut the idea down. His reasoning would come to pass that evening. He wouldn’t feel him die. Not really._

_Not how he wanted to._

"Rodimus?"

Rodimus didn’t acknowledge him, but he felt the sympathy in his field as Drift approached.

"Here."

Rodimus spared a glance at the drink Drift offered him. Fizzy, bright magenta, and sure to be way too sweet. Exactly how Rodimus liked it.

"No."

"Please Roddy? It's from a celebration of life for him. Some people were even asking about you. I know you said you didn't want to go, but I think it would be good if..."

Drift trailed off as Rodimus hid his face. He could hide the twin streams flowing from his optics, but he couldn't hide his shaking spoiler and shoulders. He cried into his knees and was vaguely aware of Drift rubbing his back. He didn’t want to seek his comfort because he knew the next time he’d need someone comforting him he’d find an empty berth. But he fell against him, despite his better judgement, sobbing into his amica’s shoulder.

“Megatron wouldn’t want you to neglect your health.”

“He can’t want _anything_! He’s _dead_!”

Drift didn’t react. He just soothed him and said that he was here. 

After Rodimus’ current bout of crying ceased, Drift spoke up. "I remember the way he looked at you. I remember being so frustrated watching you two be so oblivious to the others' feelings. Half the crew was making bets on how long it would be until one of you just confessed."

"And the other half hated me for it."

"Frag them. You love who you love."

"Yep. And who I loved left me alone and miserable. Sounds about right."

“Do you think I’m deserving of love?” Drift asked.

“What kind of question is that? Of course you are!”

“Then Megatron is, too.”

Rodimus looked away. “That’s different.”

“How? We were both ex-Decepticons.”

“You know why. Because it’s not about whether he deserves it or not, it’s about what everyone else thinks. And they’ve clearly made their choice!” Rodimus gestured to the fireworks display. “So can you just leave me alone so I can be miserable in peace?”

“Nope. I’m staying right here.”

“Hmph. Fine.”

After a lengthy silence, Drift said, “You know he asked me for my blessing, right?”

“What?”

Drift chuckled. “Well, it was more like him asking if I would kill him if he went for you. I told him I made no promises either way, and that in the end it was your decision and that I would support you either way.”

Rodimus tried to smile. He nearly managed to, imagining a hunched and humble Megatron before Drift, glancing at his swords as he asked for his blessing. But then he remembered. The almost-smile wobbled and fell, and more tears came. It was all he was good for anymore.

“You know no one would judge you for crying, right?”

“I don’t want to go to a party with a bunch of Decepticons!” Rodimus spat.

“Alright, alright…” Drift pet his spoiler. “Then we can have our own celebration of life.”

“No.”

“It helps, you know.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Rodimus pushed him away. “He’s dead and no amount of stories or praising his accomplishments is going to bring him back! You have _no idea_ what it’s like to lose your conjunx and watch the world _celebrate_.”

Drift sighed. “You’re right. On both counts. I will never understand. But I also know that holing yourself up in your room crying your optics out won’t bring him back, either. I know what you’re doing. You’re punishing yourself. You hate that you loved him and you’re regretting it among all the grief, but it’s okay that you did, Roddy. It’s okay that you loved him. But you need to open yourself up to recounting your happy memories with him. I don’t want you to bottle anything up or fake how you’re feeling, but if you only let yourself feel sorrow, that’s all your life will be.”

“You don’t know anything!” Rodimus screamed. He gripped Drift’s shoulders hard enough to leave dents.

“It’s okay, Roddy,” Drift whispered, embracing him once more. “It’s okay.”

The real tears came then. What he had thought to be a torrent before was just a light shower. This was a hurricane of sorrow that messily spilled from his optics as his vents hitched and caught. His whole frame shook. He felt out of touch with reality and all that existed was the yawning hole Megatron had left in his spark.

He needed his comfort. Drift could try, but he would never make him feel as safe. Megatron had been a formidable grey wall that could shield him from the world, and would have been able to fight off any threat. 

He was exposed. Vulnerable. Exactly how he had presented himself to Megatron, hoping he would do the same and finally show him his spark.

He’d hesitated.

He’d regretfully refused.

Despite his need to protect him, his spark still burned. All he had done was deprive Rodimus of a piece of himself that he could always carry with him. He had to rely on his memories, now. Memories already greying at the edges.

Rodimus fell into his second state of being since the execution.

Numbness. 

He didn’t cry. Didn’t move. Didn’t _feel_. He just existed. His only function was to take up space, and even then, he tried to make himself as small as possible.

Drift was there all the while. In the present, he wished he would just leave him to wallow, but in hindsight he would be glad that he was there with him. He wanted to show how grateful he was to have him as an amica, but the only feeling his frame would allow besides sorrow, was anger.

“You don’t have to go to one of the parties,” Drift broke the silence, “but I want you to try and share a nice memory or two with me. Do you think you can do that?”

_No._

“I’ll try.” His voice croaked as if he hadn’t spoken in years.

“That’s all I ask.”

Rodimus swallowed a few times, then tested his voicebox a few more times. He got half-words and finally actual words, but he couldn’t manage to string any of them into a sentence. Every recollection felt too painful. Even the recent memories. _Especially_ the recent memories. So he went back, back, _way_ back, to the beginning. Their love had kindled, but it hadn’t yet taken a full hold of him in frame, spark, and processor. Megatron was special, important… but had his execution date been set then, it would have been a little easier to move on.

“Did I… ever tell you about our rites?” Rodimus asked quietly.

“No. I honestly wondered about it.”

“That bastard made me do all the work,” Rodimus said. He managed a miniscule smile. “And he made it nearly impossible for me to even _start_ the ritus.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. We kept going to _Swerve’s_ — _his_ idea, mind you—and sitting in _our_ booth. And since, y’know, he’s not one to just go to _Swerve’s_ , I figured he was _finally_ gonna do the Act of Intimacy. And then he would hold my hand and my spark would stop, but he’d just keep going on as if it was a normal night. Because it was, to him. So, you know me, impatient as ever, I cornered him in our office after hours, straddled him, and told him about, y’know… stuff.”

Drift chuckled. “I bet you caught him completely off-guard.”

Rodimus managed a little laugh. “Yeah. He had his hands up like this.” He held them up and away from his body as though he were surprised. He exaggerated his shocked expression, too. “And he didn’t say a word for like a whole twenty seconds after I finished.”

“What did he say?”

Rodimus laughed. “He said ‘where’s my gift?’”

“He did not!”

“Well, he was joking. Mostly. Only hitch was, y’know, I didn’t actually remember the gift part.”

“Roddy. There’s four steps and you only have to do _three_.”

“Hey, I was betting on only having to remember _one_! By my logic I remembered double what I needed to.”

Drift laughed, shaking his helm. “Oh, Roddy.”

“I made good on it, though. Built him a little room on one of the lower decks that was completely shielded and had no cameras. He got so little privacy, and I just wanted to give him some peace. Even from me.” He glanced at Drift. “I know giving Megatron a room where we couldn’t see what he’s doing wasn’t the greatest idea, but… I trusted him. I needed him to see that.”

Rodimus’ face fell.

Drift resumed rubbing Rodimus’ back.

“I know he didn’t deserve a second chance,” Rodimus said. “Some days I wish I hadn’t fallen in love with him, but…” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “He made me a better person.”

“You brought out the best in him, too,” Drift said gently. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that happy. And the way he looked at you… he looked at you like someone seeing the stars for the first time.”

“Yeah?” Rodimus attempted a smile, but his lower lip wobbled. “Do you… think I’ll ever see the stars again?”

Drift’s field embraced Rodimus with love, while he physically held him, too. Rodimus cried, but quietly. His tears dripped down Drift’s plating while his shoulders shivered.

“There are an infinite number of galaxies, full of billions upon billions of stars, with millions of planets to see constellations you’ve never even heard of. So yes, Rodimus. You will see the stars again. But it won’t be the same stars you can see from Tarn.” Drift hugged him tighter when his crying became a little more audible. “And you can always stop there, and look up. It will be bittersweet, and it’s going to hurt, probably for a long time. But someday, that sky will be something you can remember fondly.”

Fireworks went off right next to the building. The joyous celebration drowned out Rodimus’ sobbing while the tears falling from his optics glittered in the rainbow of colours outside the window. The colours that paid no mind to those grieving. To those left alone.

To those who _lost_. 


End file.
